


Stay Like This Forever

by tealightwhimsy



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealightwhimsy/pseuds/tealightwhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requester asked for:</p>
<p>"I'd rather not have the characters romantically or sexually involved with Abigail.  i prefer them as her surrogate fathers or mentors.  How do the characters' minds work?  What do they think about each other?  How do they interact with each other."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Like This Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neurotoxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts).



The day is so nice that Will is convinced this is one of his lucid dreams. He does not mind it, though, for instead of his nightmarishly feathered stag, it is Abigail and Hannibal who are with him. They have been walking through the woods surrounding his house for at least an hour -- part of Hannibal’s prescribed therapy for Abigail – and Will wishes this day will never end.

Suddenly, Abigail stops – as she has periodically done since they started their journey – and turns her head to the side, mouth forming a silent, “shh.” Ever the hunter, she cannot help but detect the life hidden around them; habit causing her to stand still. Hannibal and Will stop as well, watching her as she peers past the wild veil at something Will cannot so readily see. Although he is no stranger to the wilderness, it always takes longer for him to detect what the other two have already noticed.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Hannibal asks and, immediately, Will is able to see the wild eyes of a deer staring back at them. She is just two black eyes behind green leaves and the brown trunk of a tree. Her body seems to fade into the patterns and textures around her and, yes, she is beautiful.

Although she is too far away to say for sure, Will knows that he is the one she is looking at. He can feel the power and majesty in her gaze and wishes he could get close enough to touch her. To stroke her soft fur and have her nuzzle the palm of his hand would be nice; comforting. 

Will lets the easiness of the thought wash over him. Imagines the delight of holding the creature to him and how accepted he would feel in the embrace. She would allow him to hold her until she had enough and then she would offer a small grunt and walk away. 

At this last thought, Will is broken out of his reverie as another feeling overtakes him. The desire for well-being and safety transforms into something angry: the desire to master her power. Take her home with him to keep for always. The feeling leaves him both hungry and sick and he finds himself leaning over as if he were punched in the stomach.

Is this what a hunter feels?

Is this what Hobbs felt for Abigail?

Although he wants to retch, Will turns to look at her. In Abigail’s face is a peaceful calm; the smooth surface of a deep lake. It’s not the right moment for it but he has to know. Without turning away from Abigail, Will slowly lets himself begin to feel.

Relief floods him as the desire to overpower seeps out of his body. He can almost feel it soak into the ground beneath his feet and he lets out a large breath at the alleviation.

Refocusing his gaze, Will finds that Hannibal is staring at him – an imperceptible look in his eyes. The surface of his features is as smooth as Abigail’s and Will searches the lines of his face to find a muscle tic or involuntary swallow -- something the break the calm. But there is nothing and Will is beginning to become unnerved.

Hannibal sees it and concern fills his eyes.

“Are you cold, Will?” he asks. Abigail turns to look at him, the same imperceptible stare. 

“I think maybe…all this fresh air…” he starts but then stops when he hears his voice. It sounds false, as if someone else is speaking for him. Abigail’s expression turns weary and she looks him up and down.

_No_ , Will thinks. _You won’t find what’s wrong with me there_.

“Perhaps it is time we head back,” decides Hannibal. “We have been out for a long time and we do not want to overstay our welcome.”

With that, they turn back on the path and head out. Will looks back towards the trees but finds that the deer is already gone, having escaped when they weren’t paying attention.

* * *

When they arrive back at Will’s house, he finds he is not ready to go in. Once they go in, they are that much closer to Abigail gathering her things and returning to the hospital. Despite his earlier episode, he appreciates the lovely day and wants Abigail to spend more time in it before returning to cold, locked doors.

He sits on his porch bench, hoping they will follow suit; and they do -- Abigail on the bench next to him and Hannibal in the chair on the other side of the door. Will turns to look at them.

They are not close together – not even looking at each other – but Will feels a conversation happening between them. Something in the energy of their bodies; in the energy of their…togetherness.

Loneliness creeps over him; as one who is in a crowded room. 

It has always been easy between Hannibal and Abigail. From the moment he and Hannibal first met Abigail. Even before she awoke from the coma; when Hannibal’s capable hands had firmly pulled Will’s own shaky and slippery ones away and saved the life of the young girl between them.

Maybe it was because Hannibal had saved her life.

Maybe it was because, while Will had been resistant in his own paternal urges toward Abigail, Hannibal had accepted them right away and there had been no disconnect between his thoughts and his actions.

Maybe because Will had been the one to murder Abigail’s father -- her real father. 

The reminder startled him and he his eyes met Hannibal’s gaze. Gone was the implacable expression and, in its place, a calming smile.

“Tea, I think. Don’t you? Hannibal said, standing up and making his way into the house. He moved with the grace of a feline, Will observed, and scoffed a small laugh at the image.

“Maybe something a little stronger,” he says but Hannibal only returns the smile and disappears beyond the door.

With Hannibal gone, Abigail and Will sit there in silence. He has the urge to say something or do something but finds no inspiration. It is not often that they are alone without a third person to buffer their conversation. Nor is it that they are uncomfortable around each other or do not find conversation easy. It is that Will lacks the same energy with Abigail, as he sees with Hannibal and feels it acutely, now. 

He realizes that he is chasing the moment instead of letting it happen. The realization only leaves his frozen in his seat.

“Do you still have them?” asks Abigail, finally breaking the silence. “The nightmares of my dad?”

“Sometimes,” he answers, half-truthfully.

“Me too,” she says. Her voice much smaller than before.

“They are just dreams, Abigail. He can’t hurt you now,” Will says. He wants to reach out and touch her – moves his hand to do so – but drops it.

“I know. But sometimes…sometimes he’s there…and the girls are there…and…” she turns to face him. Will waits but she does not go on – closing her mouth, instead. Her eyes search his but he does not know what she wants or what he can give her. He sees a slight movement, as if she is coming towards him, but it is so slight he wonders if he saw anything at all.

“It’s…normal…to feel…bad about what happened Abigail,” he says. “But please remember that you had nothing to do with any of that. You are not your father…”

“No, she isn’t,” Hannibal interrupts from the doorway. “Abigail is Garret Jacob Hobb’s daughter, no more.”  
He carries two cups of tea and hands one to each of them before returning to the house. Will does not recognize the aroma emanating from his cup but, still, it is familiar somehow.

“Is this an herbal tea?” he asks. “What is this?”

“Drink up, Will. It will be good for you,” Hannibal says returning with a third mug, and a quilt over his arm. He smiles down at Abigail who looks up at him from her own mug. Something imperceptible passes between them; the knowing smirk of a understood joke whose punchline has somehow gotten past Will. A thrill of jealousy seizes his gut and he quickly turns his head away.

Suddenly, Abigail is pressing at his side and he turns to see that she has scooted closer to him in order to make room for Hannibal on the small bench.

“The tea is delicious, Will,” says Abigail. “I think you’ll really like it.” Will looks back at her, her eyes close now. Too close. He looks up at Hannibal who has an expectant look in his eyes. He is also too close so Will looks away and does the only thing he can do -- takes a sip of his tea. 

The earthy, warm taste is welcome on his lips and he settles back into his seat.

“That’s better,” says Hannibal. “You’ll start feeling much better now.”

“I think that would go much faster if you had put in a little something extra,” answers Will.

“Oh, it has enough extra as it is,” Hannibal chuckles, stretching the quilt over the three of them. Will can feel Abigail sink deep between them; cradling her mug between two hands. 

_I hope she feels safe,_ he thinks, before returning to his tea. He still can’t quite place it but the aroma is definitely familiar.

They sit there in silence and Will begins to grow sleepy. The world begins to shimmer at the edges and he wonders if he will become too sleepy to help drive Abigail back to the hospital.

He can hear Hannibal and Abigail talking but can’t make out what they are a saying.

“But I wanted to drive you back,” he says, turning to them. They stop their conversation and look at him.

“But not yet. You don’t have to go yet.” Will is a little confused as to why he is saying these things out loud. He wonders if he is confusing them, as well.

“Do not worry, Will,” says Hannibal. “We do not have to leave, yet.” His voice sounds very far away. “Sit back and enjoy your tea.”

Will takes another sip and puts his head back.

“Dad?” comes a small voice. He wonders if a car is driving by. 

“Dad?” it asks again and he feels a nudge at his arm. Opening his eyes, he finds Abigail looking up at him. 

“Will you hug me, dad?” she asks and Will’s heart swells. He’s only ever heard her call him that in his dreams. Something taps at the back of his mind. Something he should pay attention to. Something that is wrong. But her eyes are looking at him now with such trust that he ignores it.

“Of course,” he says and puts his arm around her. She settles in with a soft sigh.

“Thanks, Dad. And Dad?”

“Yes, Abigail,” Hannibal answers. 

“You too.” Hannibal meets Wills eyes, smiling as he places his arm over Abigail and onto Will’s shoulder. 

“Of course,” he says, giving Will’s shoulder a squeeze. Will smiles back at him. He wants to return the touch but his hands are full and so he leans his face into Hannibal’s outstretched arm. The fabric of Hannibal’s jacket is as soft as the edges around Hannibal’s face.

_Hannibal is lovely_ he thinks. 

“This. This is lovely”

He does not know he has said it aloud.

“I could stay like this…forever.” Hannibal’s grip on his arm grows stronger.

“You will, good Will. You will,” he says. 

But Will does not hear him.

**Author's Note:**

> For Neurotoxia,
> 
> I hope you like it! :-)


End file.
